


Hey, Merlin, Leave My Hair Alone

by QueenoftheBritons



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Humor, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, M/M, Merlin is a Little Shit, Merlin is a Little Shit (Merlin), Merlioske-friendly, Scruffy Pendragon Fest (Merlin), except it's 4+1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:27:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24339622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenoftheBritons/pseuds/QueenoftheBritons
Summary: Arthur has no chance of getting a haircut while stuck in lockdown, but he'll be damned if he lets Merlin cut it for him. Unfortunately, Merlin won't leave it alone.Or: 4 times Merlin messes with Arthur's hair, and 1 time Arthur got his own back.Part of a series, but each is a stand alone fic!
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 148
Collections: Scruffy Pendragon Fest





	Hey, Merlin, Leave My Hair Alone

**Author's Note:**

> Part of my Camelot in Quarantine series - all (two so far) stand alone fics!  
> Here's another one because I love this Scruffy fest  
> I tried for 5+1, but there's only so much you can do to someone's hair without them actually killing you

Arthur hated the boredom stuck inside, although with Merlin around there was usually a mess to clean up somewhere. The boredom was certainly irritating, though. Yet, it was only third on the list of things he hated about the current lockdown. The second, very close to the first, was his hair.

1.

 _“_ _Merlin!”_ He screamed from the bathroom, staring at his hair in the mirror. It had been a scruffy mess for awhile now, and Arthur had no trust in Merlin to try and cut it for him. He had seen the disaster cuts of friends with less patience than him, and he was even surprised to find that Morgana’s attempt at Gwen’s hair was a resounding failure.

His own partner did not rush up the stairs, but Arthur heard him padding up with a laughter in every breath, knowing exactly what he had been shouted for. Arthur growled under his own breath, clenching his jaw, attempting to clamp down the anger. His reflection stared mockingly back at him, though, and the anger stayed at its peak, waiting patiently for the perpetrator of this evil crime to enter.

“Yes, Arthur?” The man in question asked sweetly, doing terribly to hold back his full force of laughter as his hands hid behind his back innocently.

“ _You_ ,” Arthur pointed an aggressive finger at him, “don’t you have anything better to do?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Merlin gasped, holding a hand to his heart. “Have you changed something, by the way?” He frowned.

Arthur’s fists clenched by his side at the impossibility of this man, “how did you even do all of this?”

Merlin shrugged, dropping his innocent act in an instant with a laugh, “I was honestly surprised you hadn’t woken up by the third one.”

Arthur’s eyes widened, “there are _more_?”

His ridiculous, _childish_ partner cracked then, holding an arm around his stomach as his eyes closed in a roar of laughter. Arthur stared at him, his anger only growing, something he wasn’t sure was possible.

“At the back,” Merlin managed to gasp out, calming down, wiping away a tear in exaggeration.

Arthur’s hand immediately flung to the back of his scalp, and sure enough, he felt more, even smaller braids there, too. If he wasn’t so angry, he might admire his partner’s determination to wrangle even the shortest pieces of his messy hair into a braid.

Ears steaming, he let out a huff, looking desperately at the mirror. “Whatever,” he shook his head, “I need to get these out, _now_ , I’ve got a call with my father in a few minutes.”

“Your hair will be nice and wavy,” Merlin’s eyes lit up; Arthur’s glare grew darker.

“Your lucky I don’t have time to murder you,” he grit out, “now come and help me!”

2.

Arthur thought the braiding was bad, but apparently, that was where Merlin’s fun was only just beginning.

Waking with an unmanly yelp which he would later vehemently deny, Arthur shot up from his napping spot on the sofa and searched round the room before his eyes fell on the giggling man-child. His eyes then caught what his partner was holding on to, and his fingers flittered up to hover over his chin, burning now where the shot of pain had come from. The emptiness left helped Arthur realise what had happened, and he fumed.

“Merlin,” he spoke with a calmness he didn’t know he had in him, and he wasn’t sure how long it would last. “What have you done?”

The idiot coughed out some more laughter, but tried to appear annoyed, “what? You said your beard was annoying you!”

Arthur frowned, pulling his face in in confusion, “what are you talking about?” He waved his arms out, “I don’t recall asking you to _wax it off_!”

“Well, I know but,” Merlin shrugged, “I read between the lines.” He tilted his head as he touched his nose, as if he had just given Arthur some kind of service.

“I think my father was right,” Arthur blinked for a long time, “you might just be mental.”

“Maybe,” Merlin scrunched his mouth to the side, and Arthur honestly had no reply. “If it helps, I haven’t waxed it all off.”

“What?” Again, Arthur found his hands hovering over his chin, and found the man now sitting on the floor against the sofa staring up at him with amusement was right, “what?!”

“You woke up before I could do the rest!”

“Oh, I’m _sorry_ ,” Arthur shouted through gritted teeth, “I hadn’t realised I’d interrupted you!”

“Don’t worry about it,” Merlin grinned. Arthur smacked him across the head. “No need for that!” His partner rubbed at the side of his head, tutting.

Arthur threw himself back against the sofa, burying his head in his hands with a strange sound of despair leaving his throat, “I hate you,” he bemoaned.

He felt the sofa dip as Merlin perched himself beside him, but he refused to look at him. “Now you’re up, we can do the rest of it.”

Arthur dropped his hands, rolling his eyes over to him.

“I was going to _shave_ it later,” he growled.

“Oh,” Merlin’s mouthed. “I guess I’ve saved you the trouble,” he tried, pushing his neck into his shoulders.

“I didn’t even know we _had_ beard wax?”

“We didn’t, I bought some specially.”

“Thank you for that,” Arthur shook his head.

“Anyway, this is for the best really, I keep getting stubble burn when we kiss.”

“Oh, you needn’t worry about that,” Arthur pushed himself off the sofa to go and inspect the damage properly in a mirror, “there’s no chance I’ll ever kiss you again!”

3.

“Your hair’s very scruffy, you know.” Merlin spoke in the quiet, stroking Arthur’s mess of hair as the blonde read a book. Apparently this had become his partner’s main point of entertainment for the day, then.

“Very observant of you,” Arthur droned, not taking his eyes from the page.

“Why won’t you let me cut it, again?”

“You know why,” he answered with ease, having had this conversation with the man too many times.

“Ah right,” Merlin nodded, “you think I’ll do a bad job.”

Arthur plopped his book down, frowning, “no. I _know_ you’ll do a bad job.”

Merlin looked offended, “you don’t know my skills.”

“What, all one of them? I think I do. The skill of causing me misery, that’s it, right?”

“You’re exaggerating,”

Arthur chuckled humourlessly, “oh, I don’t think I am.”

“Still, I could do a nice job.”

Arthur picked his book back up, _“not happening.”_

There was a lull in conversation, then, and Arthur hoped he might just get to read in peace for once.

“I could always do something else,” Merlin continued, though. “Hm… I think we have some straighteners in a draw somewhere.”

Arthur’s brow furrowed, “why?”

He felt Merlin shrug, “I think Morgana left them here when she came for the weekend. I told her they were here, but it wasn’t long before everything, so she’s not had chance to get them.”

“I was more thinking, why are you talking about straighteners?”

“I could straighten your hair.”

It was the way he said it so casually, like it was just a normal thought, that worried Arthur the most.

“Why do you hate me?” He groaned.

“It might look nice!”

“It already looks fine.”

“Trust me,” Merlin winked down at him and then raised his eyebrows a second, “I know.” Shrugging, he continued, “but it’d be fun, to see how long it is when it’s straight.”

“You could always look up fun in the dictionary.” Arthur suggested, but Merlin’s damn goofy smile widened at the idea formed fully in his head, and Arthur knew he was not getting out of this. He rolled his eyes, “if I let you, can I read my book at the same time?”

Merlin’s smile widened, eyes lighting up, “can’t see why not.”

Arthur considered himself mad, but sighed, “fine.”

“You’re not supposed to tug!” He shouted, book long forgotten as Merlin attacked his hair with hot panels.

“I’ve never done it before, have I?” Merlin argued back, frustrated by the task. “Maybe if you sat still!”

“I’m sitting perfectly still, you’re just bad at it!”

“You can do it yourself next time.”

“I didn’t want it done in the first place!” Arthur threw his hands up, but it turned out to be a mistake, as Merlin tugged again at another part of his hair as he was thrown off balance.

“Why did you agree, then?”

And Arthur gawped like a fish, then, when no words stumbled out because how do you argue with an idiot?

“I’m much better at cutting,” Merlin muttered to himself.

There was no way in hell Arthur was letting Merlin near a pair of scissors.

4.

At least Merlin was enjoying himself during this period, because now, as he watched his partner laugh mercilessly at him once again, he vowed Merlin would not make it out alive. Standing in the living room opposite one another, Arthur dripping from head to toe, covered only by a towel below his torso, he stared at the man with a hatred that had never been purer.

“My hair,” he growled, throwing his hand up to point at it, although it was quite obvious. “Is _blue_ ,” there was a deep sadness in his voice, but he tried to focus on his ire.

“Suits you,” Merlin nodded in approval. “I could never pull it off.”

Arthur wanted to cry. “The only thing you’d suit right now is a _coffin_.”

Merlin gasped, “it’s not permanent or anything.”

“I don’t care,” Arthur shook his head, “I have a meeting in twenty minutes! I doubt it’s that temporary, is it?”

His partner at least looked sheepish. For all of five seconds.

“I’m glad you find it so funny.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Merlin said, coming back up for air. “No, it’s very serious. Very bad.” He cleared his throat, frowning mock seriously.

Arthur wanted to say more, wanted to scream from the rooftop, wanted to cry into a pillow lamenting over his now dark blue hair. But he couldn’t, because he still had the meeting.

“I am going to get dressed,” he exhaled, “and _you_ are going to find me a hat.”

Merlin didn’t move.

“Now, I don’t want anything stupid. I want a _normal_ hat,” Arthur spelt out emphatically, “can you do that?”

“Yes, Sire,” Merlin bowed, but rushed away before Arthur could whack him. Hand clenching on his hold of the towel, he watched the man go with a fierce ire in his stare.

Merlin, fortunately, had followed his instructions and given him a normal hat. Still, he stared at his own screen on the call, conscious that his hair might show.

“Arthur, is everything alright?” Leon asked, catching Arthur’s eyes wandering off again.

Coming back to the meeting, he shook his head, “fine, everything’s fine.”

Leon’s eyes squinted, but after a moment he continued.

“Princess,” Gwaine chirped in after a few minutes had passed, “I know you’ve got those pretty boy looks, but you don’t have to gaze at yourself all the time.”

“I think he’s questioning the hat,” Elyan spoke then, and Leon rolled his eyes.

“Alright, don’t worry, we can discuss the work later,” he mumbled.

“Let’s stay on it,” Arthur said, hoping to deter them.

“Now I _definitely_ want to know what’s up,” Gwaine rubbed his hands together.

“You do keep zoning out,” Leon shrugged. “What’s going on?”

“His hair’s blue!” Arthur’s eyes widened as he turned so quickly his chair almost fell backwards. Merlin was behind him though to stop it falling, a twinkle in his eye as he grinned.

“Go away,” Arthur whispered angrily.

“What do you mean, his hair’s blue?” Gwaine asked, and Merlin bent down, a hovering head over Arthur’s shoulder.

“He was experimenting,” Arthur wanted to throttle him. “I don’t think he’ll keep it like that, though.”

“This I have to see!”

“It’s _not_ blue!” Arthur denied.

“Prove it,” Gwaine dared, “take off the cap.”

“He’s a bit shy about it,” Merlin whispered loudly.

“Take off the cap!” Elyan repeated Gwaine’s words, and Arthur soon found all of his friends – only colleagues now – chanting together. Even Leon, the worst traitor of all.

+1.

The number one thing that Arthur hated in lockdown, top of the list, was probably his idiot partner who was delightfully clumsy, but damn masterful at manipulation, sometimes, when he wanted to be.

“Arthur,” Merlin spoke calmly as he entered the living room, Arthur staring up at him with innocent eyes.

“What is it, love?”

Merlin crossed his arms, “I was just drying my hair,” he explained, “and then, well, you can see.” He waved his arm to his face, a dusty snow white.

Arthur’s nose crinkled in a frown as he held back a laugh, “how’d you do that? I didn’t know flour was involved in your hair care regime.”

Merlin blinked, “it _isn’t_.”

Silence fell as they each waited for the other to break, Arthur’s eyes dancing with humour, but eager to hold off until the anger came.

Merlin’s lips turned into a thin line as his shoulders slumped, “I see.” He strolled over, dropping himself beside Arthur with such weight that some of the powder jumped off his skin.

Arthur could no longer hold back.

“Yeah,” Merlin nodded with acceptance, “just get it all out.”

And Arthur did, laughing for a good few minutes.

“It’s about time,” he finally huffed.

Merlin crossed his arms, “it’s only one time, I’ve got you so many times.”

“But not _this_ time,”

“I suppose,” he shrugged, “but it’s not that impressive. I think my efforts had a lot more originality,” Merlin stuck his nose up.

Arthur scoffed, “I don’t care, you look ridiculous!”

“I think some of it went up my nose.”

And so came the second round of belly laughter.

“Let’s call truce?” Merlin asked when Arthur finally brought himself back up, eyes staring into the other man’s pleadingly.

“No way,” Arthur stared back grinning, “I still have to get you back for the other times!”

“Well, what if I made it up to you?” Merlin whispered, leaning in. Arthur’s attention caught, then, eyes dropping to his partner’s lips as they moved in closer. Merlin’s hand dropped on to Arthur’s sat between them, and Arthur couldn’t help but push himself forward.

“How?” He asked softly.

“I’m sure we can think of something,” Merlin smiled that smile that only Arthur saw, and he mirrored it.

Merlin’s hand moved then and grabbed at his shirt collar, and Arthur found his lips pressed against his partner’s own in one swift movement. Sinking into it, his hand came to cradle Merlin’s chin, the other wrapping around his neck as they melded closer.

The distraction lasted as he melted into the warm kiss, but his brain soon caught up as the dusting tickled his cheeks. His eyes opened wide before he pushed away in realisation, a grin already lighting up Merlin’s face before confusion had fully settled.

“You tricked me!” Arthur pouted, “I’ve got flour all over me!”

Merlin didn’t reply, but dabbed his own face where flour still lay settled, before smudging it on Arthur’s own in an audacious move.

Arthur glared, “I’ll get you for that.” He growled lowly.

“You’ll have to catch me first!” Merlin shouted, shooting up as he took advantage of Arthur’s sudden confusion.

Arthur, having excellent reflexes that Merlin must have forgotten about, grabbed at the towel covering Merlin. Unfortunately, or fortunately, however one chose to look at it, Merlin’s own reflexes were not as good; the hand holding the towel lost its grip easily, and he tripped over as it was pulled from him.

A grin spread over Arthur’s face, at the delight of the prank, as well as at the view now before him.

“If you give up now,” he leaned down, grazing his lips against his partner’s ear as he whispered, “we can finish where we left off.”

There were some small pleasures to life in lockdown, Arthur supposed.


End file.
